


Picture This

by FoxGlade



Series: #hashtag 'verse [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: #selfieolympics, Captain America: The Winter Soldier Spoilers, Gen, M/M, pre-slash TO THE EXTREME, the starktower instagram account has even more followers than clint's youtube account
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-19 23:30:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1488151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxGlade/pseuds/FoxGlade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The photo, uploaded to the “starktower” Instagram account, shows Hawkeye sitting on what appears to be the giant A fixed to the side of the tower, giving a peace sign with Midtown Manhattan spreading out behind and below him.</p><p>The caption simply reads, “Avengers go hard #selfieolympics”.</p><p>[Four photos of the Avengers that went viral. Sequel to Read All About It.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Picture This

**Author's Note:**

> as said in the summary, this is a sort of direct sequel to Read All About It, and probably should have been published as a second chapter of it, hence why it's so short. sorry about that
> 
> two things:
> 
> 1\. yes, the peter parker in this fic is the andrew garfield version. yes, i have seen amazing spiderman 2. no, there will be no spoilers. in regards to peter, this is set in an au wherein after the first movie, he started doing freelance photgraphy and journalism and was never sad ever again.
> 
> 2\. if you're following the pepper/tony/bruce side story to this 'verse, apologies, but the second part looks like it'll be a while coming. be patient!

**1.**

“I’m just saying, I totally had them.”

“Of course you did. Next time, I’ll be sure to leave you on the exploding building so you can take the shot.”

“This never came up when I was working with Coulson,” Clint laments, and sprawls back on the steps of the museum they’d finished the fight in front of. The wide stone steps are slightly cracked from the battle, but are otherwise holding the weight of seven Avengers without protest.

“If that’s true, you have more communication issues then I thought,” Natasha says, nudging his outstretched hand away from her thigh with a delicate flick. “Besides, we all know he’d totally have picked you off a dozen rooftops if he had flight capabilities.”

“Are you suggesting I make Agent some Falcon wings?” Tony asks. Lying half in his lap, half across one of the steps, Bruce gives a semi-conscious snort, eyes slitted to give the barest impression of wakefulness. “Because I don’t think they’d fit under the suit, just saying. Also, the bird puns would reach critical mass. I couldn’t handle having that much material.”

“He doesn’t need them, he’s already badass,” Clint says, yawning on the last word. He could use a nap himself. A few steps above them, Steve and Bucky are sitting next to each other, watching the banter unfold like it’s a particularly amusing reality show. Thor had flown off soon after the battle ended, declaring his need for food and promising to return soon.

The lull in conversation is broken by the sound of approaching footsteps; there’s a lanky kid in a black coat and holding a camera scurrying towards them, picking his way over the rubble with surprising grace.

“Sorry kid, this party is for over-thirteens only!” Tony calls. Natasha thumps his shoulder.

“Parker!” Steve greets warmly once the kid is at the bottom of the museum steps. “You weren’t caught up in all of this, were you?”

“No sir! I mean, uh, I might have caught the end of it,” Parker admits, and Clint snorts. In the public eye, Peter Parker’s only connection to the Avengers is that he has a track record for finding himself in front of the press barrier and getting good quotes from team members. In less public knowledge, the Avengers have been aware of Spiderman’s identity since May; he’d assisted them in neutralising a panicked lab assistant who’d gotten a little too close to her co-worker’s experiments, and been injured enough for the team to insist on taking him back to the tower for treatment.

The Avengers may not like secrets, but they’d be keeping this one for as long as Parker did.

“Pull up some turf, kid, Thor should be getting back with food soon,” Tony says. “You look like you need it.”

“Thanks? Okay.” He gingerly sits down between Bruce, who at this point is decidedly asleep, and Natasha, who gives him a fond look.

“Get anything good?” she asks, nodding at his camera. He fiddles with it before replying,

“A few good shots. I got a bit distracted,” he says. “But actually, what I came up here for, I’m kind of writing an article? About you guys?”

“Better be all good things,” Clint warns, amusement seeping through his voice. “We know where you live. Well, JARVIS does, at least.”

“Don’t terrorise the poor kid,” Bucky chides, speaking for the first time since the fight ended. Some days he comes out of the Winter Soldier mindset quicker than others. “You wanna interview us or something?”

“No, no,” Parker says hurriedly, “I’ve already got most of it written, I was just – a photo? Maybe?”

The conscious members of the team all give him varying shrugs and looks of indifference. Bruce continues to snore quietly against Tony’s hip. “You might want to wait until Thor gets back,” Natasha suggests, and her words are immediately followed by a rolling boom of thunder. “Speak of the devil.”

Thor lands around ten metres or so down the street, bitumen cracking beneath his weight, and he walks towards them holding seven containers aloft.

“Behold! I return with great spoils of war,” he announces in the exaggeratedly archaic manner he uses among them when he’s in an especially good mood. “In honour of our friend Banner’s prowess in battle today: dumplings!”

The word seems to reach Bruce on a subconscious level, and he jerks upright with a start. “What?” he says, looking around in confusion until Tony carefully takes his glasses out of case he’d built into the suit for them and hands them back to him.

“Dumplings,” Tony says seriously, and Bruce looks over to where Thor is holding out a container for him. He snatches it and rips the lid off, practically inhaling them as the others look on in amusement.

“Faster metabolism,” Steve says to Parker, collecting his own container from Thor. Beside him, Bucky grabs another and sniffs it suspiciously. “Hits hard after a fight.”

“Don’t have to tell me,” Parker mutters, and Steve grins.

“Hey. Share some of mine, kid,” Natasha says, offering her container. “Hope you like fried pork.”

“I apologise for not bringing you any food, young Peter,” Thor says solemnly, and offers one of his own dumplings. Parker politely declines. “I did not know you would be here.”

“Don’t worry, I really only meant to take a second,” he replies, shoulder twitching in a tiny shrug. He stands and moves down the steps again. “So, I’m just going to take a picture, okay? Don’t look at the camera, just – keep eating. And talking. I don’t know. Look human.”

“Kid, I’m so tired right now, I’ve forgotten how to,” Clint drawls.

 ---

The photograph appears on the front page of Peter Parker’s incredibly well-received article, “Human After All”, and is praised for its understated tone, its clear message. In it, the Avengers relax on cracked stone stairs, digging into Chinese takeout, postures loose and faces open. Hawkeye is reaching for a piece of Black Widow’s food, and is clearly about to have his hand slapped, if her dangerous expression is anything to go by. Bruce Banner, draped in a large and obnoxiously orange blanket, is pressed against Tony Stark’s side, face nearly buried in his food; Stark himself is in full armour but has removed his helmet, allowing the camera to capture his disbelieving expression at whatever Thor, caught in mid-gesture, is saying.

And behind them all, Captain America and the Winter Soldier – although it is clear that in this picture, they’re merely Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes – observe, dumplings frozen between the containers and their mouths, looking on to the scene with obvious amusement, like parents watching children bicker amongst themselves.

 

**2.**

Bucky, Natasha and Darcy crouch behind the couch, hands over mouths, desperately trying not to laugh at the conversation happening in the kitchen

“No, I know… Well it’s not like secrecy is our by-line these days… Seriously?! I jump off buildings on the regular and _this_ is what you’re riding my ass about?”

“Five bucks says Agent drops in within the next three days just to slap him upside the head,” Darcy chokes out. Natasha shakes her head, but Bucky whispers “You’re on,” just as Clint yells, “WHY WERE YOU ON TWITTER ANYWAY?”

There are tears streaming down Darcy’s face as she shakes with supressed laughter, and Bucky’s not much better. Natasha’s face is slowly turning red from holding her breath.

“Whatever, totally worth it,” Clint says. “Tell the babies I said hi.” There’s a pause, and then, “I know you guys are back there. You are _so_ not invited to join the ninja assassin club, Lewis.”

“Wow, shocker,” Darcy calls out. “I can’t believe he chewed you out so much over a _selfie_.”

“I can’t believe he didn’t chew you out more,” Natasha adds.

“Like I said,” Clint replies, walking over to sprawl on the couch they’re still hiding behind. “Totally worth it.”

 ---

The photo, uploaded to the “starktower” Instagram account, shows Hawkeye sitting on what appears to be the giant A fixed to the side of the tower, giving a peace sign with Midtown Manhattan spreading out behind and below him.

The caption simply reads, “Avengers go hard #selfieolympics”.

 

 **3.**

“So people just… endanger their health to get attention on the internet?” Steve asks. Darcy shrugs.

“Don’t look at me, I’m not competing,” she replies. “It’s pretty fun, from what I’ve heard.”

“It’s _hilarious_ ,” Bucky interjects, still scrolling through pictures on his phone. “Have you seen the guy with the cord phone-?”

“That one’s my favourite!” Darcy crows, and pushes Steve out of the way to look over Bucky’s shoulder. Steve gives her an amused look, but neither are paying attention to him anymore.

“The future is so weird,” he mutters, and Darcy laughs, but Bucky is suddenly giving him an assessing look.

“It’s a competition, right?” he confirms with Darcy, not taking his eyes off Steve. “So let’s go give Hawkeye a run for his money.”

**\---**

The photo is uploaded to the “starktower” Instagram account the next day, and shows Bucky giving the camera and open mouthed grin and throwing up a peace sign with his metal hand. In the background, Captain America in full costume is looking directly at the camera. His shield is a blur of motion right behind Bucky’s hand.

“Hanging out with my good buddy Cap! #selfieolympics” the caption reads. It gains twice as many likes as Hawkeye’s selfie within three days.

 

**4.**

“I swear, if you’re taking me to that damn Civil War art exhibition,” Bucky says the next time they’re stopped at a traffic light. He’s sitting on the back of Steve’s motorbike and probably doesn’t need to have his arms wrapped so tight around his best friend, but Steve’s not complaining, and it’s not like anyone would be fool enough to try and object, them looking as they do. Steve snorts and revs the bike as the lights turn green.

“No, but I thought we might stop in on the show about punk clothing,” he replies, raising his voice over the wind. Bucky squints at him.

“Punk’s get their own clothing now?”

“No, it’s – punk means – it’s a type of style, now. Apparently.”

“Huh.” They rode on in silence. With the Met being relatively close, by their standards, normally they would have just walked, but Steve had been complaining about still not having taken out the bike that Tony had built him, and it’s not like Bucky could ever refuse anything Steve asked of him.

“So what are we actually-“

“Patience, Buck!” Steve calls back, and Bucky presses his forehead to the back of Steve’s neck so Steve can feel his irritated groan. He swears he can feel Steve’s grin in return.

They park under the museum and stroll up to the entrance, Bucky making increasingly ridiculous and inappropriate guesses as to what exhibition they’re about to see.

“Evolution of pornography through the years? That’d be interesting. I’ve missed seventy years of it, maybe I should try and catch up.” Steve shoves him, face red, and Bucky goes flying to the left, laughing. He stumbles back to Steve’s side, but keeps his trap shut, and almost goes to throw an arm around Steve’s shoulders before he remembers.

He’d never tell Steve this, but sometimes he turns around and expects to see the short, 90lb guy he used to know. He doesn’t miss the constant colds, the nights of hacking coughs and days of being trapped in their apartment trying to keep Steve’s temperature down… but he does miss being able to hook a casual arm around Steve’s shoulder and pull him closer. A metal arm does wonders for the wrangling of supersoldiers, but it’s not exactly the same.

He’d never tell Steve this, but he misses being the strong one, even if Steve was always stronger in every way that matters.

The Met is cold, air-con on full force in the gathering June heat, but the two of them habitually wear hoodies and sweatshirts in vain attempts at anonymity, so they don’t notice. Bucky especially, given that he’s looking at the banners proclaiming current exhibitions with a slowly dawning grin.

“Seriously?” he says, spinning to face Steve. “How long have you been hanging onto this one?”

“It only opened the other day,” Steve replies, grinning satisfied and bright. “But I may have known about it for a while.”

“You _punk_ ,” Bucky laughs, pulling Steve in with an arm around the waist and keeping it there as they head for the ticket desk.

Evidently the general public didn’t find exhibitions on early 20th century baseball legends quite as exciting as the two of them did, because although the place is fairly crowded, he and Steve are the only ones staring at the cards with awe, chattering to each other about statistics before rushing off to the next lot on display. A few older patrons give them disapproving looks, but they barely notice.

“Imagine if we were born just a few years earlier, Buck,” Steve insists for the third time. “We could have seen some of these games, I bet!” A woman standing a few feet from them gives them a confused look, and Bucky laughs.

“Way to keep a low profile, Rogers,” he replies. The woman’s eyes widen in recognition and Bucky gives her a wink before dragging Steve away. He’s long since removed his arm from around Steve’s waist, exchanging it for keeping the hand of his metal arm firmly in the pocket of Steve’s hoodie. Convenient for staying anonymous _and_ for keeping a track of him, Bucky was prepared to say if Steve asked. He doesn’t, though, and they continue through the exhibit for hours like that.

When they finally get back to the tower after a detour through Central Park, Sam’s leaning against the kitchen counter and having a friendly argument about hashtags with Clint. He greets the two of them warmly and waves a hand at Steve’s insistence that he should have called to tell them he’d arrived a day ahead of schedule.

“Nah, it was fine. Didn’t want to interrupt your date,” he says easily, the barest hint of a grin in the corner of his mouth. Both Steve and Bucky freeze.

“My- what?” Steve says, eyebrows raised. Clint taps something into his phone and shows them the screen. The twitter site is on display, along with its trending hashtags, which Bucky still doesn’t understand despite Tony and Clint’s obsession with them, and the top one reads: #MetDate.

“Do we have to give you guys the lecture about selfies again?” Clint asks. “A few people posted selfies with you guys and a whole lot more tweeted that they’d seen you walking around lookin’ real cosy, and then the hashtag took off. Congrats,” he adds, evil glinting in his eye.

“You know, I feel like people over forty shouldn’t say the word selfie,” Sam muses when it becomes apparent that Steve and Bucky are still processing what Clint had said. “Sounds wrong.”

“I’m _thirty-eight_ , birdbrain. You’re not even six years younger than me!”

Over the sounds of friendly bickering, Bucky turns to Steve and says with a smirk, “If I’d known it was a date, I would’ve made you pay for both our ice creams.”

Steve laughs and meets Bucky’s eyes with a smirk of his own. “Believe me, when I take you on a date, you’ll know it,” he says, and only blushes a little at his use of “when” instead of “if”. Bucky just nods slowly, not breaking eye contact, smirk settling into a small, fond smile.

“I look forward to it,” he replies, and for once he doesn’t mind the damned Truth Field.

 ---

**SUPERHUMAN GAY ROMANCE?**

_(The article features two photos: one, a slightly blurry shot of Steve hurrying onto the next item on display in the exhibition, Bucky hanging onto Steve’s jacket pocket. They’re wearing casual, layered clothing; Captain America in a dull purple hoodie and baseball cap, the Winter Soldier in a blue sweatshirt, hair tied back into a short ponytail._

_The other photo is a selfie taken from twitter, of a young girl standing in front of the pair and grinning wildly. Bucky looks amused, and Steve is giving the camera a goofy smile. The accompanying tweet reads, “Look who I ran into at the Met today! :) :) #realheroes”)_

Captain America and the Winter Soldier, of the Avengers, were yesterday seen at a Met exhibit, acting in what witnesses agree was a suspiciously close manner.

“Superhuman? More like super cute,” one twitter user proclaimed, adding the now wildly trending hashtag #MetDate.

“So every pair of friends who go to a museum together is a couple now? Good to know,” another tweeted, in what is now the second most retweeted response in the hashtag.

The incident has stirred objections from various conservative groups, but without official comment from the Avengers in question, their relationship remains the object of pure speculation.

The subjects of LGBT rights and the rights of those with superhuman abilities have been linked since the late sixties, when well-known mutant activists Charles Xavier and Erik Lensherr publicly declared support for the mutants involved in the Stonewall Riots (…)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [just move to the internet, its great here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2317955) by [cettevieestbien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cettevieestbien/pseuds/cettevieestbien)




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